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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586913">Sins Against the Wall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/VisceralComa'>VisceralComa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prostituted in Thedas [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackmail, Crack Treated Seriously, Dancing and Singing, F/M, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Mildly Dubious Consent, Modern Character in Thedas, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Portal Fantasy, Prostitution</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:00:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/VisceralComa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall never expected anyone in the Inquisition would find out his true identity, much less the harlot he woke up next to. Now he's got to keep her pleased all to keep his identity a secret, while also finding out how she knew.</p><p>Janey always ensured she'd never slip up around any of the inner circle. Especially not while working as an Inquisition spy. And yet, she did. But she was able to turn it to her advantage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Original Female Character(s), Blackwall/Original Female Character(s), Eustace Morris/Original Female Character(s), Morris/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prostituted in Thedas [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cold harsh morning wind of the Frostbacks bit through the barn’s walls and wormed its way under the layers of pelts, furs, and blankets Blackwall slept under. He shivered and pulled the piles closer to cover himself. Yet as soon as he did, a body rolled and pressed to his chest. A warm and soft body, with a round faced head tucked under his chin. Her bare belly and breasts pressed to his chest, seeking warmth. She curled closer on instinct and then intentionally as she groaned “five more minutes” into his neck.</p><p>Blackwall didn’t move. Not until he registered that yes, there was indeed a <em> naked </em> woman beside him. </p><p>Under normal circumstances, this would not bother Blackwall. But when he opened his eyes and looked down at the mop of golden auburn curls and pulled back, the woman sharing his hay stack was not one he recognized. </p><p>Given the plump and voluptuous shape of her, he’d gather she was a wealthy noblewoman. His stomach sank at that observation. </p><p>Lady Montilyet was going to have stern words with him. It was bad enough she had to remind The Iron Bull not to bed the visiting dignitaries or their adult children. Now he would be on her short list of people to blame for negotiations going sour. </p><p>“Fuck.” He swore. </p><p>“It's too cold.” The woman muttered around the sleep in her voice. “But if you warm me up again.”</p><p>“What?” Blackwall breathed deep at the insinuation.</p><p>He smelled the combination of their scents and became aware of his spendings - dried and sticky on his thighs, the ache in his lower back, and the stirring in his cock. </p><p>She shifted closer, her warm thighs parting and a deliciously soft palm cupped him. </p><p>“Maker’s balls!” Blackwall coughed and groaned. </p><p>His unnamed bedmate snorted and giggled. “If these are the maker’s balls…” her hand dipped and massaged his sack. “Does that mean...these…” her chest pressed tighter to his. The points of her breasts squished and he looked down at the brown edges of her nipples and mouth filling bosom. “...are Andraste’s tits?”</p><p>Blackwall couldn’t quite answer. Especially when her leg hiked over his hips and her body pivoted up until she was straddling him. </p><p>The cold air rushed between and around them until she shifted just so and guided his cock to slide right into-</p><p>“Maker have mercy…” he groaned as her heat enveloped him. </p><p>“Never.” She breathed atop him. </p><p>If she was a noblewoman, then he’d clearly already bedded her once.  What was the harm in doing so again?</p><p>He gripped her hips and pulled her down, flush against him. His full length impaling into her. </p><p>She hissed, body arching and her hand pressed to his chest. </p><p>“Do not use it like a sword!” She growled. </p><p>“What?” Blackwall blinked and remembered those very same words Sera had once told him. He groaned. Was this a woman Sera had thrown at him?</p><p>“You’re big, but fucks sake Blackwall you cannot be jamming that in like you’re stabbing someone.” The woman stated atop him. </p><p>“You seemed to like it last night?” He growled and lifted her up before thrusting up into her. He wasn’t lying about that. He could recall a woman last night, shrieking and moaning against him begging him to thrust harder. </p><p>“Thaaaa-“ she met his thrust. “Because I like a little pain.” Again she hissed and moaned. </p><p>“Pain?” He asked, curious. He remembered the Orlesian parties he attended as Captain. Maisons, brothels, of particular tastes were bought out to provide the army with lovely entertainment. So long as a mask was worn. Whips, chains, switches and bruising. In some rooms, soldiers and chevaliers had elven prostitutes choke them. “I can show you pain.”</p><p>“Oh please do,” Her laughter had him growling and he rolled them until she was beneath him. Her legs raised up to rest on his hips. </p><p>There with her laying under him, he finally did recognize her. But just barely. He’d seen her in the tavern or down by the valley where the soldiers were in tents. </p><p>“You’re a…” he almost asked if she was a prostitute but he bit his tongue. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Didn’t stop you last night.”</p><p>At his quirked brow, she pushed her mass of curls to the side and revealed the smattering of dark purple bruises along her neck, shoulders, and collarbone. Now that he could see with the morning light he spied a light bruising around her neck, perfectly in the shape of his hands. Her wrists sported bruises as well, from being held together and down. Her lips were plump and purpled in the corner like she’d been hit. He ran a finger over it and down to her neck. </p><p>Parts of last night came to him. He could feel the sting of slapping her. Of pushing her face down and hiking her arse up. Of her pushing against him. Was it in pleasure or...</p><p>With as much drink as he’d had…he might not have heard her pleas. And yet, despite these thoughts, his cock was still hard and snuggly inside her, where now she was twitching and clenching. </p><p>“You’re taking too long…” she huffed. “Are you going to fuck me?”</p><p>She’d admitted she liked pain, so if he had been rough with her, he imagined it had been at her urging. </p><p>“Do you want me to?” He cocked a confident smirk at her and she squirmed against him. “Beg me to…” </p><p>Her pupils dilated yet she glared. “I don’t beg...” her hips rubbed against him, trying to force movement out of him. </p><p>Blackwall pushed his hips harsher until he pinned her in place. “Quit squirming and beg, lass.” He rolled. His Marcher accent slipping out. </p><p>“Fuck…” she swore. </p><p>Blackwall quirked a brow as her cunt became sopping. Her cheeks were a flame and she tried to look away. </p><p>Blackwall grinned. “Lass…” he let his inner Marcher out and hovered near her ear where he breathed. She squirmed even more. “Ye cannae get me to fook ye’ unless ya beg me to.”</p><p>“That’s not fair...” she moaned. </p><p>“I’ll wait, lass.” He chuckled darkly and remained perfectly still. </p><p>“Oooh.” She growled. She tried to use her legs to push up but Blackwall quickly trapped those with his own and gathered her wrists into one hand and pinned those above her head too. Leaving her completely at his mercy and with one hand free he traced down her neck, over each bruise he’d left.  When he got to her bosom he squeezed and lifted them up enough for him to breathe on and tease. But never to lick or bite, despite her heaving breaths that clearly wanted him to. </p><p>But still she didn’t beg. </p><p>Blackwall grew impatient, and his knees were starting to hurt. So he shifted, not to thrust in and out, but to apply pressure to her clit with his pelvic bone. It wasn’t much but enough over time and…</p><p>“You fucking Dirty Marcher bastard!” She hissed. “That’s cheating!” </p><p>“Cheating or not, will ye beg?” He grinned and waited. </p><p>She whined and thrashed before finally gasping. “Fuck me! Please fuck me! For maker’s sake if you don’t fuck me right now-Ah!”</p><p>He thrusted. </p><p>“Quiet now, lass. Else ya wake the whole barn.” He tutted but released her legs to drive into her. </p><p>“Let go of my wrists!” She rasped, meeting each of his thrusts with a roll. Even her walls clenched at the right time. He let go and she raked his chest and back, grasping for purchase until she found it. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he thrusted. </p><p>He could feel his release just at the very edge and pulled out.</p><p>She groaned, about to complain but he tossed her over onto her stomach, where he mirrored last night and pushed her face down and hiked her arse up. </p><p>But instead of entering her again, he lowered himself until he could lick her. His beard became wet quickly as she moaned and then howled when his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked. Her legs quivered as she came. </p><p>He was quick then to push into her, thrusting to wild abandon as she rolled through her orgasm. When that tightening tickle at the base of his spine and brief flash of light filled his vision cane, he spilled into her. </p><p>“Noooooo,” she howled beneath him, still raspy and quivering. </p><p>He was out of breath, sweating, and spent as he collapsed next to her, sated. Yet she wasn’t so calm. She was rolling out of bed onto her weak legs, where she nearly fell. </p><p>“Lass come back to bed.”</p><p>“Fuck you!” She spat at him. </p><p>“Is that not what-“ he stopped when he watched her hover over the chamber pot and frantically tried to push out all his cum. </p><p>“Lass…” Blackwall blanched. “Shit…”</p><p>“Yeah NO SHIT!” She groaned and used the bowl of water he had to wash as much away. </p><p>Blackwall hauled himself up and looked for a cloth, something to help her. He found his handkerchief and was beside her offering it to her. </p><p>“Just leave it! Rainier!” She spat and pushed him away. </p><p>Blackwall stilled and stepped back. What did she call him?</p><p>“Ugh…” she dropped the bowl of water down and turned to grab her clothes which were strewn across the haystacks. “I need to get to the repository. You’re worse than the soldiers, cumming inside me like a boy.” She huffed. </p><p>“Lass…”</p><p>“Oh don’t ‘lass’ me, now,” she grumbled as she pulled her dress on. Her corset hung loose and untied. “Unbelievable.” She quickly grabbed all her items while Blackwall stilled. </p><p>“Why-“</p><p>“Why? Because I’m not about to get knocked up by some-“ he cut the lass off by placing a hand over her mouth. She glared at him, pulling back but he kept her firmly close to him. </p><p>“Why did you call me that?” he whispered low. </p><p>Her brows furrowed, confused until he mouthed the name. Then her eyes widened and there was a level of fear there. </p><p>She dropped her other clothes and frantically tried to pull his hand off her mouth. </p><p>“Lass. I’m not going to hurt you.” Blackwall assured. “Just tell me where you heard that name.” Here he pressed harder over her mouth. His other hand gripped her waist and kept her close. </p><p>Her breathing grew frantic, heaving as she stopped moving.</p><p>“I’m going to remove my hand, and you’re not going to scream. Do you understand?” He stared her down. She shivered but nodded</p><p>He pulled his hand off and she bit him at the last second. </p><p>“Bitch!” he swore, shaking his hand. He lunged for her but she was already running toward the stairs. Her feet quicker than him. </p><p>She was out of the barn, leaving most of her effects behind. </p><p>“Fuck…” Blackwall watched as she disappeared into the morning crowd of Skyhold workers.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Given the fucking STATE OF THE WORLD. Grimdark!Coma has taken a leave of absence into the world of fluff and smut and if you don't like, tough cookies. I have reached my threshold of dark shit currently, and when the world stops being *interesting* I will return back to Grimdark land.  </p><p>So for now, have some Porn with Plot with a side of Crack, Fluff, and a zest of dubious consent because I like flipping the typical gender roles with things. For this, Blackwall is the one being blackmailed by a woman (MCIT) into sexual favours. </p><p>So... enjoy...</p><hr/>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Skyhold repository supplied not just the Inquisition's army, but the castle’s stores and people. If there was a kitchen supply order to be filled Ser Morris did his best to fill it out. If there was specific metals Harritt and Dagna needed, Morris was sure a relative in his family knew someone with a mine. And if individual Skyhold habitants had a particular item they needed, extra bedrolls, blankets, perhaps gauze for the infirmary, he had stock. Plenty of it. </p><p>So it came as no shock that the repository door burst open.  What was shocking was that a disheveled looking woman with barely her dress on right shut it and locked it. She was heaving as she quickly checked his window to peer outside. </p><p>Between the mess of her hair, the ruffled quality of her dress, he barely recognized her. </p><p>“Janey?!” he gasped and dropped the scroll of lading he was checking and came over. He stopped however when catching sight of her bruised lip and the smattering of marks across her the nape of her neck.  An anxious swarming worry filled him as he took note of the panic on her face. “Janey...are you…”</p><p>She turned to him with a smile bright and giggled. “Morris, you look positively ghastly.” She slapped his shoulder and he released a breath. “Though I don’t blame you, what with…” she gestured at herself. </p><p>“Another rough patron?” He asked and slumped into his chair while rubbing the bridge of his nose. </p><p>“And a messy one at that,” she added and then batted her lashes. “Don’t suppose you have-“</p><p>“Of course I do,” he sighed already knew what she was asking for. He walked toward the safe in the corner, hidden away. He opened it and removed the small brown bottle and dropper. </p><p>Janey poured out an ale for them both and he added two drops to hers from the bottle. The smell made him gag, yet she managed to drink it all in one go. </p><p>“I’ve only enough for one more you know,” Morris warned her. </p><p>“How much is it to order more witherstalk extract?” Janey asked. She held a finger up and then burped. “Oof, drinking so fast always gives me such horrible bubbles in my throat.” </p><p>“Well, more than you can afford that’s for certain.” Morris noted with a placating smile. Slovenly as she was, he enjoyed how at ease she was with him. </p><p>“Hmm, so who do I’ve got to service then?” Janey’s eyes closed in resignation. </p><p>“No one, if you stopped this work,” Morris huffed and moved around the room to set the bottle back and grab a tray of fruits and bread for her. </p><p>Janey shrugged, peering at the fruits he set before her. She took a morsel and chewed, quietly. </p><p>“Why were you running?” Morris asked. </p><p>“I said something I shouldn’t have to last night’s patron. Looked like he was going to chase me down- shit…” Janey sat up straight. “I left my purse in the barn.”</p><p>“The barn?” Morris asked. Was that where her patron had taken her? What kind of a man beds a woman in a barn? Prostitute or not, it wasn’t very gentlemanly. He wrinkled his nose. Janey’s patron was a bastard and a brute, if the bruises on her were any indication. </p><p>“I’ll have to try and get it later today then,” Janey sighed. </p><p>“How much was it?” Morris asked as he lifted the scroll up again, but saw none of the numbers or bills of lading in the pile. Instead he kept picturing Janey going to the barn and encountering the brute that gave her those bruises in a less than transactionary mood. Would she come back more bruised?</p><p>“A few sovereigns.” She shrugged. “Maybe ten.”</p><p>Morris breathed in. “Janey!”</p><p>“I know. I should be more careful.”</p><p>“You’ll not go back. I’ll fetch it for you.” Morris stood up. </p><p>“Aww Morris, you don’t have to do that,” Janey cooed. </p><p>“Of course I have to. I can’t let you go back to the man that gave you such marks,” he sniffed. </p><p>“You’re so sweet.” Janey grinned and watched as he pulled on a coat. “I also left a few of my other items too. If you wouldn’t mind…” </p><p>Morris wanted to glare at her, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Of course.” He unlocked the door. </p><p>Janey stopped him and turned him before he could leave. “Perhaps...when you come back…” she pressed close to him, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. </p><p>He moaned, shivering and letting her devour him, toying with the way his heart clenched and stoked his desire for her. “Oh Janey…” he rasped and pulled back. “You know I can’t…”</p><p>She sighed and rubbed against his cheeks. “Just because you’re betrothed doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun…” </p><p>Morris pressed his forehead to hers. “Why do you play with me so?”</p><p>“Because you need to loosen up.” Janey stated simply. “And until I see a ring on that finger, you should have some fun.”</p><p>“Having…” he lowered his voice. “Having anonymous <b>sex </b>is not my idea of fun.”</p><p>“It wouldn't be anonymous with me.” She flashed her teeth. </p><p>“Yes. Well, even the first time with you was nerve wracking. I shan’t repeat it.” </p><p>“But it got so much better after that…”</p><p>“Janey…” he warned. </p><p>“Yes yes, I know…” she pulled back and headed for the stairs. “I’m going up to use your bath. When you come back…” she looked back at him. “You’re welcome to join me.” </p><p>He didn’t say anything as she slipped upstairs. Instead he composed and braced himself. He hated confrontation and much preferred to handle things over missives. He sounded far more confident with the written word rather than speaking in person. He took a breath to steady his nervese and stepped outside. </p><p>“Andraste’s exposed ass cheeks!” He gasped. It was cold enough to freeze the ground. He could only imagine how cold Janey had been with no cloak and her dress barely laced up. </p><p>Shaking his head, he thought nothing more of it and headed for the Inquisition’s barn on the other side of the massive fortress in the Frostbacks. </p><p>“Master Dennet!” He bowed his head in greeting but paused. Had Dennet been Janey’s patron? He was always in the barn, taking care of the horses, hallas, harts and whatever else the inquisitor dragged in as a mount. </p><p>“Ah, Morris lad.” Dennet waved and stood up slowly from where he’d been hammering a shoe onto a mount. “What brings you here?”</p><p>“Well…” Morris trailed off to look Dennet over. He couldn’t picture him as a brute to bruise a woman so. The man was gentle and kind. Sure he slipped up in conversation with off color words, but he was of an older generation. Twas to be expected. Not to mention Dennet was married and had a daughter. </p><p>Though if one thing Janey taught him, is that people were different when having and paying for sex. </p><p>He flushed, imagining Dennet and Janey inside the barn. His mind picturing Dennet smacking Janey around. </p><p>It didn’t fit. </p><p>“You alright lad?” Dennet pulled his attention. </p><p>“Oh well...I - um…” Morris fumbled. </p><p>“Dennet! I fixed that stool of yours.” Warden Blackwall came out of the barn with a stool. </p><p>Morris eyed Blackwall. </p><p>Now Blackwall...<b>Warden</b> Blackwall. That’s the sort of man he could picture smacking Janey around. Weren’t most Wardens former criminals anyway? He squinted. </p><p>“Something we can do for you, boy?” Blackwall asked and crossed his arms. </p><p>“I’m...here to pick up a few items my friend left behind.” He worded cautiously, if a bit nervous. If Blackwall was indeed the man who’d roughed up Janey, he might not be in a very generous mood. </p><p>Dennet chuckled. “That lady friend of yours that was mouthy this morning?” He asked Blackwall. </p><p>“It would seem so.” Blackwall looked Morris up and down. “And she’s a <b>friend </b>of yours?”</p><p>“Yes.” Morris gulped. </p><p>“Right. Yeah she left a few of her effects. Come with me.” He gestured to the barn and walked ahead. </p><p>Morris did not immediately follow, instead looking toward Dennet who seemed unconcerned. Morris eyed the barn again, gulped and walked in past all the stalls of mounts. </p><p>“Uh Blackwall?” He called, not seeing the man anywhere. Not by the braziers, or the work desk with an assortment of carpentry tools. </p><p>He examined a few rockers on the table. Griffin rockers by the looks of it. Of course they’d be griffons given Blackwall was a Warden. How very on brand. </p><p>“So...what did the lass say?” Blackwall rumbled behind him. </p><p>Morris yelped and spun in place. “Just..ah...Maker…” he pressed a hand to his chest and put some distance between them.</p><p>“You’re quite a nervous fellow.” Blackwall frowned. </p><p>“By nature. Yes…” he admitted. It came from being forced to meet everyone and anyone his parents wanted him to. Connections, favors, and intriguing gossip are what his family collected. If you needed anything procured, you contacted his family.</p><p>“So what did she say?” Blackwall asked again. This time putting a bundled of neatly folded clothes down and a coin purse. </p><p>“That she left her items behind…” Morris gulped. </p><p>“That all?” Blackwall stared. </p><p>Morris wanted to spit at him that she didn’t need to say anything else, that her face did all the talking with how much of a ruffian he was. But he didn’t have the gall, or the fortitude. He felt light headed even thinking of saying those things outloud, provoking Blackwall. If he did the Warden could punch him. Morris was not a man of physical prowess and action. So instead, he nodded.</p><p>“So are you...her fella?”</p><p>Morris’s cheeks flushed at the insinuation.</p><p>Blackwall chuckled, loud and unnervingly. “Falling for a harlot is ill-advised, boy.” </p><p>Morris had no idea what came over him, but he bristled at Blackwall calling her harlot, despite it’s truth. “She’s a name.” Morris bit out. “As do I, Ser,” he added.</p><p>“Morris, yes. I remember your name. Hers not so much.” Blackwall admitted. </p><p>Morris glared. </p><p>“Wasn’t exactly my fault.” Blackwall raised his hands. “Too much drink ya see. So what’s her name?”</p><p>“As if I would tell a brute like you!” Morris gaped. What was he doing? Stop stop! He tried to halt the words spilling out of him.</p><p>“Brute? Careful, boy…” Blackwall squinted. </p><p>“Well all Wardens are former criminals, after all.” Morris spat back as he grabbed Janey’s items. “Nothing but malefactors who dodged their hangings. And given what you did to her, you’re more savage than the rest.” </p><p>Blackwall’s brows rose and then lowered in an apologetic way. “She asked me-“</p><p>“You are not to touch her again!” Morris would hear none of whatever Janey may or may not have asked to be done to her. He knew she always took on the Patrons who required a tougher constitution and build, and that was always Janey. It did not give her Patrons the license to use and abuse her.</p><p>Before Blackwall could react and before he lost whatever nerve he had managed to summon, he stalked out and away from the barn all the way back to the repository. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Blackwall watched him go. He only meant to tease the boy. Yet he was at least confident the lass hadn’t spoken his true name to anyone else. </p><p>But it still begged the question. How did she know? Did the Spymaster know? He’d often saw the spymaster’s agents and the Inquisition's prostitutes speaking when visiting dignitaries were about. </p><p>Either way, he would at least be speaking to the lass again. If only to convince her to keep such a name secret.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Janey heard the door to Morris’s room open. She didn’t look up from the bath she had drawn, staying within the waters to enjoy the heat for as long as she could. At least until a gentle pair of hands dropped onto her shoulders. Right where Blackwall had bitten hard enough to draw blood last night. </p><p>“You need poultice and a bandage,” Morris sighed. </p><p>He didn’t avert his gaze even as she turned and exposed herself to him. Nor did his gaze wander from her eyes. </p><p>She spotted the rest of her items on his dresser and smiled. “You were successful.”</p><p>“I was.”</p><p>“Let me thank you, Morris,” she cooed and pulled him toward her. Her mouth pressed to his lightly, teasing his mouth into opening. He melted into her as she took control and took what she wanted from him. Oh but he gave it up willingly, always but only to a point. </p><p>He pulled back and set his forehead to hers. “You could have told me it was Blackwall.”</p><p>Janey smirked. “And give you further reason to lecture me?”</p><p>“I do not lecture.”</p><p>“Yes you do. It’s adorable.” She dropped back into the water and continued to wash. “And highly unneeded” </p><p>Morris huffed. “Why do I bother?”</p><p>“Because you’re in love with me.” Janey stated, without so much as a flinch. </p><p>Morris froze and watched how easily she was able to say such a thing. She wasn’t wrong. He did love her, but he could never act on such feelings. Not anymore, not since meeting his fiancée. </p><p>“Are you going to watch me ‘bathe’?” Janey eyed him. </p><p>Morris didn’t contemplate for long. “Yes.” </p><p>“Shall I bathe like an Orlesian courtesan?” She asked with a giggle. “Or perhaps an Antivan one?”</p><p>Morris snorted and shook his head as he sat down. “Bathe like I’m not here.”</p><p>Janey frowned and rolled her eyes. “You always ask for that.”</p><p>“I always enjoy it.” Morris admitted as she carried on washing. There was no elegance of an attempt to allure or lie to the watcher as to who she was. It was simply her bathing. Efficiently and unperturbed. No show. Though she did get side tracked. </p><p>“Janey…” Morris warned as her hand rubbed between her thighs. </p><p>“What?” She sighed. “I do this by myself sometimes.”</p><p>“No you don’t…” he whined and glared. His pants grew tight in the crotch.</p><p>“You can touch yourself you know.” Her voice dropped.</p><p>Morris closed his eyes and shook his head.  He heard and felt her walk across to him. Water dripped over him as she leaned forward. </p><p>“Morris.”</p><p>“Janey.” he breathed. </p><p>“Touch me.” </p><p>He looked up, opening his eyes to stare into hers. They were wide, pleading, and yet her lips had that smug lilt to them. Like she knew he was fighting against what he desperately wanted.</p><p>“No.” It pained him to say it. Yet he would not be like all the others she bedded for coin.</p><p>She sighed and dropped onto his lap. “Then dry me.” </p><p>That he could do. He even applied a thin layer of poultice to her shoulder and bandaged her up. </p><p>“I wonder what your betrothed would think to see another woman naked and in your lap and you specifically not taking advantage.” Janey asked. </p><p>“Well if I know my parents, they’ve picked the picture of an Orlesian woman in terms of temperament. She’d understand the dance we do.” Morris squinted. He may have met his future wife, but that didn’t mean he knew everything about her. </p><p>“What dance is that?” </p><p>“Where you taunt and tease me in hopes I’ll snap and take advantage and prove to yourself that what all people want is the thing you believe is your only worth. When you’re worth more than what lays between your legs.” </p><p>For once, Janey said nothing. She had no quirky comeback, nothing snappish or funny or even a flirtation. She was quiet and hugged her knees close as he finished bandaging her shoulder and neck. He set to work untangling her hair and braiding it. He would have helped her dress but the bell rang downstairs and he did have a job to do. </p><p>“I trust you’ll dress yourself?” He asked. </p><p>“Hmm.” Was her only reply. </p><p>He took it as an affirmation and returned to work. </p><p>The day passed and he heard only a few sounds from his room. Mainly with emptying the bath and then the creak of his cot. </p><p>At mid afternoon, he went upstairs to find her curled up in his bed. He lifted the blanket and climbed in beside her for a quick nap. Waking a quarter of an hour later to her naked. </p><p>“Maker. Why-“ he groaned. </p><p>“Comfy…” Janey mumbled. “You can be naked too.” </p><p>“Janey I’m not-“ he tried to fight her but she was pulling his trousers loose and down. “Janey!”</p><p>“S’only fair…” she hissed into his ear. </p><p>“Well life is not always fair, dear Janey.” He pulled her hands up and grasped them. “When do you work tonight?”</p><p>“Not till an hour past sundown,” she sighed. </p><p>“So late…” </p><p>“The Advisors are having some dinner negotiations that are expected to last quite a while. Flissa is having us be available in the event things go sour.” Janey shrugged. </p><p>“And you expect things to go sour?”</p><p>“It’s a Marcher Prince or another. The Inquisition is trying to get his support while also not turning their backs on what he did to Kirkwall…” Janey shrugged. </p><p>“Kirkwall? You mean...Maker!” Morris sat up. “Prince Vael is expected in Skyhold?” </p><p>“Expected? Already here.” Janey whined to pull him back down. </p><p>“I have to make sure Lady Montilyet has everything she needs-“</p><p>“They do.” Janey huffed. “The man is pious. His bedroom has very little save for a huge painting of Andraste. And his only reading material is the Chant. Would you-“ she set him back in bed. “Relax! The Spymaster consulted Master Tethras. Nothing too extravagant is to be shown. We’re meant to show our complete devotion to the Chantry. He is a brother of the Chantry after all.”</p><p>“Then why are you and the others to be present?”</p><p>“Because he was known as an incorrigible rake in Starkhaven.” </p><p>“And you’re all to tempt him. Is that it?” Morris smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. </p><p>“Word has it, he even wears an Andraste chastity belt now.” Janey giggled. </p><p>“You’re terrible.” Morris sighed. </p><p>“Terrible, and motivated to get the Good Prince to break his vows again.” </p><p>“Can you really break your vows a second time?”</p><p>“Dunno. But I’ll get him to do it.”</p><p>“You do have a way about you.” Morris bumped her forehead. </p><p>“And yet I can’t get you to sleep with me again.” Janey trailed off. </p><p>“Hush. Let’s not think of that. You should sleep. I will bring you a meal later.” He slipped out of the bed. </p><p>“You are entirely too good to me.” Janey yawned and curled further under the blanket. </p><p>“Yes well…” he looked back at her. Her face melting into smooth lines as she slept. No fake or forced smile, no teasing quirk to her lips. Just Janey sleeping in his bed, divorced from the lifestyle that she chose. And yet he still feels guilty for it. He was her first Patron as a prostitute after all. “...someone has to be.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Skyhold’s Great Hall was done up meagerly with little extravagance. The Hall was filled with Chantry sisters and specifically pious nobility that were invited to Skyhold for this occasion. </p><p>Yet, Prince Sebastian Vael was present by a fireplace with Varric across from him. The two engaged in a game of Wicked Grace with the Inquisitor and The Iron Bull. </p><p>Not at all what Josephine had expected. </p><p>Leliana however expected it and walked in with Flissa in tow. Janey’s fellow prostitutes followed after Flissa like little ducklings (Candy, Precious, Hart, Sabre). They were dressed well, but simply with a few slips. </p><p>Despite what she’d told Morris early, Janey knew she was not likely to be picked by Sebastian. No way would she attract Sebastian’s attention all covered up in bruises with a glamour powder on her lip to cover the swelling. Still, she showed up anyway and dressed far more comfortably than her coworkers. A short dress with multiple skirts and bare legs, hair tousled in wild curls, and a loosely tied leather corset. She perched on a table with crossed legs and a plate of food that she ate heartily from. When no one was looking, she’d lick her fingers. </p><p>Flissa normally didn’t care so much. Whatever worked to draw people’s attention. Janey was the most requested of her workers from the soldiers. They felt like they didn’t have to put on airs around her or treat her a certain way, despite how she looked. Some requested her for a night of chatting or to even out their numbers when they were playing games. Once the soldiers paid her so she’d join their belching competition. She didn’t win of course but she got to the semi finals. </p><p>However, in this situation, Flissa cared. She stepped up to Janey. </p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Eating.” Janey grinned whilst chewing open mouthed. </p><p>“I know that.”</p><p>“Then why ask me?” Janey swallowed and loudly sipped from her goblet. “I mean because you said to exaggerate what we normally do. As your top earners, our natural behaviors should be enough. And you did say your top earners should be present.” Janey pointed to each of her coworkers and then herself. “So I’m here.”</p><p>“Ginger.” Flissa used Janey’s harlot name and leveled a glare at her. She pushed the plate down. </p><p>“Oh fine…” Janey huffed and did one last act of rebellion by wiping her greasy hands on the inside part of her skirts. </p><p>“Ginger!” Flissa sighed. “You’re like a child somedays.”</p><p>“A large unruly plump one.” Janey grinned. “I am off then.” Janey saluted and slipped out a side door toward the garden.</p><p>She was dressed far nicer than she would normally be. Even if it was still leagues more comfortable than the others. Still, she had bare legs with the dress being very short as it only reached her knees. Her knees! The scandal!  It drew all sorts of looks, some offended, others intrigued. Especially as she wasn’t even wearing stockings. Though with the cold of Skyhold, that didn’t seem wise. But she had a secret weapon that kept her warm. </p><p>Skyhold’s garden wasn’t full, only a handful of people dotted around. Most of them Chantry.   Still it was too many and she wanted some quiet.</p><p>Strangely the Chapel had no visitors. Which was perfect because she rarely found anywhere she could be alone for long. Unless it was Morris’s room.  She sat down in one of the pews and stared at the statue of Andraste, scrutinizing it. </p><p>“You know...I bet Andraste had better tits than that,” she lamented. For a while she stared before announcing, “Stone Andraste isn’t much to look at, guess I’ll meditate.”</p><p>She leaned against the back of the pew and emptied her mind. </p><p>It was some time when she came back to herself and woke up. Meditation was needed for her on a weekly basis, it helped her compartmentalize this life she was living, all so she didn’t let her hurts get to her. At least not in a way that would draw attention. Not that her hurts were even noteworthy. Still, she couldn’t be too careful. </p><p>Cracking her back, she spied the clock candles and noted an hour had passed. Perhaps the negotiations were done and she could return to the Great Hall and grab another plate of food. </p><p>She went to slide down the pew but found another person beside her. </p><p>“Uh…” she looked to the other side of the pew but it was flush against the wall. Unless she climbed over the pew she was stuck. </p><p>“Pardon me, serah.” She whispered. </p><p>Seriously why had the guy decided to sit directly next to her. The rest of the chapel was free. It was like a guy bee lining to the open latrine right next to someone. Awkward. </p><p>“My apologies, miss.” A Starkhaven accent voice muttered. Prince Sebastian Vael sat up to look at her. “I was hoping being close to someone so deeply in prayer, meditation, and attuned with their faith, that it might...influence my own.” </p><p>Janey’s brows raised. “Ah yes...I was...um very…” she fumbled for the right words to lie, but her brain wasn’t all that functional after such a quick nap. “Ehhhh okay I’m going to be honest. I was asleep.” </p><p>Sebastian chuckled. “I gathered as much. You snore.”</p><p>“Do not!” she whined. </p><p>“Sleep and meditation are easily crossed. Whether intentionally or not you felt at peace here in the Chapel.” He looked up at the statue. “I find I grow more uneasy in such places.”</p><p>“Is it because of your guilt?” She asked. </p><p>“Guilt?” He looked at her again. “What a curious question. What guilt?”</p><p>Janey shrugged. “Well everyone has things they’re guilty of. Even if they think they were right there is some part of you that still feels guilt. Ya know…” she stopped to eye the crown and fancy cloak he still wore, denoting his royal status. “Sorry...what do I call you? Is it Your Highness?”</p><p>Sebastian blinked. One moment she was being insightful and the next…</p><p>“Your princeliness? Surely not Your Holiness. That’s for the Divine.” Janey stuck the tip of her tongue out in thought.</p><p>Sebastian chuckled. “Sebastian will do.”</p><p>“Not Prince Vael?” He shook his head. “Brother Vael?”</p><p>“Just Sebastian.”</p><p>“That’s awfully familiar for a harlot to be calling you by your given name.” Janey squinted and leaned forward. “People will talk.”</p><p>“Gossips rarely cease their tongue wagging.” Sebastian mused. </p><p>“Unless their tongues are wagging together.” Janey poses. </p><p>Sebastian laughed. “You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t believe Madam Flissa introduced you earlier with your cohorts.”</p><p>“Because technically, I’m not supposed to entertain tonight.” Janey shrugged. </p><p>“No?” Sebastian quirked a brow. “And yet you brazenly display your calves and ankles.”</p><p>Janey snorted. “What is it with you Chantric people and the damn ankles?” Janey raised her leg up to point. “It’s not even that alluring. I mean I have cankles for goodness sake!”</p><p>“Cankles?” Sebastian mouthed. </p><p>“When you can barely tell where the calf ends and the ankles begin.” Janey shrugged. “I’m a lot heavier than most prostitutes.”</p><p>“You must know that attracts quite the number of eyes.” Sebastian turned fully to her. “And it’s simple…” he laid one gloved hand on her raised leg where he pressed on her calf and slid down to where she knew her ankles were. “Right here. The slight indent and bend.” He whispered. </p><p>“Uh…Sebastian.” Janey watched him run over her ankles and down to her feet where he removed her hard soled slippers. She braced herself against the pew as he stretched her leg up and then settled it between himself and the back of the pew. “Here? In the Chapel?”</p><p>“Where else would a Brother of the Chantry find a religiously inclined harlot?”</p><p>Janey didn’t correct him. “But...” she looked toward the large statue. “Andraste is watching…”</p><p>“As is the Maker…” he whispered and gently pushed her down.</p><p>She fully laid down. </p><p>“So...what is your name?”</p><p>Janey breathed deep the smell of incense and swallowed. “Whatever you want to call me, Sebastian.” </p><p>Sebastian’s lips curled. “You will answer to Isabela,.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple and pulled his gloves off. </p><p>“Who gave these to you, Isabela?” He ran his fingers across her neck. </p><p>“Another patron.” Janey shrugged and began hiking her dress higher and higher so Sebastian could have access, but he halted her. </p><p>“Whoever it was...did a poor job.” Sebastian ran his fingers across the handprints on her neck. “I can tell from the placement they meant to construct your air flow.” He tutted. “Either they were trying to kill you, or they’re a novice.” </p><p>“And how do you know tha-“ her breath hiked when Sebastian’s hands wrapped around her neck. Right where Blackwall had his hands, until he shifted them. </p><p>“It’s not about asphyxiation, though it can be for some. But it could damage you if done incorrectly. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we Isabela?” He purred into her ear. </p><p>“No…” she gasped, breathing easy despite his hands. </p><p>“It’s about pressure.” He pressed harder, but directed the force away from anything that could be damaged. “And your submission of trust that I won’t hurt you.”</p><p>Janey swallowed. The bob in her throat limited but it went down. </p><p>“Do you submit?”</p><p>Janey stared at Sebastian and nodded. </p><p>“Good.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Later, Flissa entered the Chapel to find Janey laying on the pew asleep with Sebastian’s cloak covering her. </p><p>Flissa sat beside her and pulled his cloak back. “Ginger? What did you learn?” </p><p>Janey groaned, wanting the cloak back yet sat up anyway. “His rakish days are not over for sure and he definitely continues to break his vows, but has a weird rule where he will only do so with Chantric prostitutes. As, according to him, purchasing a prostitute is in accordance with Chantric law and is a temporary marriage? Is that...is that a thing?” Janey asked. </p><p>Flissa blinked. “It’s...quite archaic. And was stricken from the Chant as per Orlesian law.” </p><p>“Weird…”</p><p>“Anything else?” </p><p>“He means to aid Kirkwall but requires help. The gallows are filled with red lyrium. He will provide monetary aid and Chantric support to the Inquisition, if we use our resources to get rid of the red lyrium.” Janey informed. </p><p>“That part we knew.” Flissa chewed her lip. </p><p>“Hmm…” Janey looked up. “I…”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“He knows the Inquisition is doing research on red lyrium.” Janey recalled. “And he’s doing his own.”</p><p>“And what has he found?”</p><p>“Not nearly as much as the Inquisition has found. He’s hoping with the Inquisition’s aid, he might be able to discern more...or potentially get close enough to…” Janey kept her voice low. </p><p>“Steal or learn from us?” Flissa asked. </p><p>Janey nodded and pulled Sebastian’s cloak tighter as the cold got the better of her. She was always less focused after she procured information, made keeping warm harder. She shivered. A reaction Flissa noted and pulled a small rune from her pocket to give to Janey. </p><p>“Thank you.” Janey held it, concentrating on it as it filled the space around her with warming air. </p><p>“Good work, as always.” Flissa tucked Janey’s hair back, picking up the bruises she still sported. “The Prince left the Chapel in much better spirits.”</p><p>“Has he retired to his chambers yet?”</p><p>“Yes, why?”</p><p>Janey pulled a key from her pocket. “He asked me to visit.”</p><p>“Oh my...he was <em> very </em> taken with you.” Flissa beamed. </p><p>“I want a raise.” Janey huffed. “Thirty-five percent cut.”</p><p>“Done. Now go.” Flissa shooed her off. </p><p>Janey carried Sebastian’s cloak and walked off toward the rooms visiting dignitaries slept in. She found Sebastian’s and stepped in to find him waiting, naked, kneeling, and praying. </p><p>Janey took a deep breath and did her job.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Janey stared at the fresh purple marks along her throat. These were in the shape of a long rectangular strip. Not done by hands, but by a belt wrapped tightly and pulled until she nearly passed out. He switched off from calling her Isabela to Anders about that time. </p><p>The force of his thrusts and the visceral emotion behind the way he spat that name as he fucked her, nearly made her unconscious. But what did it, was when he pulled on the belt wrapped around her throat.  </p><p>So much for ‘it’s about the pressure.’</p><p>When she regained her breath and full consciousness, he had her punish him. Kneeling and praying between her legs. That part she somewhat enjoyed, even if it was tinged with a bit of unhinged fear of exactly what would happen next. </p><p>She left the room after Sebastian fell asleep and snuck into the Herald’s Rest. Cabot thought he kept the spare key hidden well, but she knew where it was. She slipped in and found her way upstairs to Sera’s room. The elf was not there, as usual. Every Monday to Wednesday while in Skyhold, Sera spent her nights in Dagna’s room by the undercroft, leaving her tavern bedroom empty. </p><p>She grabbed Sera’s looking glass and spare fast acting poultice. Janey could not return to Morris with this level of damage to her person. He might actually cry. </p><p>Janey lifted her hair and tilted her head to see more of the damage, catching spotty red marks where blood had risen to the surface where the belt had rubbed against her skin. </p><p>“Damn…” </p><p>Janey didn’t yell, but she did turn the mirror where The Iron Bull was hunched over to look in the room. </p><p>He whistled low. “I’ve got some stuff that will work faster than anything Sera’s got.”</p><p>“How much?” Janey asked. Nothing was free. </p><p>“Call it a donation. Clearly someone never heard of proper aftercare.” He gestured for her to follow him around to the other side of the tavern. </p><p>Janey closed and locked Sera’s door and followed him. She barely spotted the blonde haired specter overhead, but kept her gaze focused on Bull. </p><p>Bull’s room was a mess. Or at least that’s what it looked like to the casual observer. The bed was drawn into the middle of the room and completely off the frame. A pile of pillows in the center, blankets and a mountain of books and reports next to it. Curled up on the bed was one very asleep Tevinter magister. His hair poofed up wildly and he snored softly. Occasionally muttering something in Tevene. What exactly, Janey didn’t know. </p><p>Bull pressed a finger to his lips to make sure Janey stayed quiet as he shut the door behind him. Janey gave a thumbs up to show she understood. He stepped toward a bag where he pulled two containers out. One was a vibrant glowing red, and the other a pink paste. </p><p>“We use these out on the field when we’re really injured.” He explained softly and gave her the potion bottle. “Drink up.” </p><p>Janey stared at it. “Is there elfroot in this?” She kept her voice low. </p><p>“Yeah, why?”</p><p>She handed it back. “I’m allergic. My tongue goes numb.”</p><p>“And your throat?”</p><p>“Never got that far.”</p><p>“Well shit…” he frowned.</p><p>“That’s kinda why I was using Sera’s.  She specifically doesn’t use elfroot in hers. Something about…”</p><p>“Messes with the bees.” Bull mused. “Going to have to ask her what her recipe is. Never came across anyone allergic to elfroot.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Janey frowned. “Thanks for trying though.” She shrugged. </p><p>“Well at least let me help clean it up. Some of those bite marks look almost infected.” Bull pointed to the spots Blackwall had sunk his teeth into.</p><p>“Yeah...human mouths are filthy…” she sighed. </p><p>“Come here.” He sat her down on a chair and pulled her hair up. His sole eye took in all the damage. “Anywhere else?”</p><p>“Unless you want your Kadan to wake up with a naked woman in front of you, this is the extent.” </p><p>“He’s not...my.” Bull dropped her hair and looked toward Dorian. </p><p>“Is that not a dragon’s tooth peeking out of your bag?” Janey craned her neck up to smirk at him. </p><p>“I have to remember you’re one of Red’s.” Bull chuckled and pulled her hair back up. </p><p>She snickered. </p><p>“Well, the infection needs to be taken care of. I’ll get water...and uh…hmm.” Bull pursed his lips. “Can I try something?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Just trust me, alright?”</p><p>“Yeaaah last person I trusted gave me these.”</p><p>“Yeah okay, but I’m not doing anything like that or intending on fucking you.” Bull deadpanned. </p><p>“Fine.” </p><p>Bull lowered his face to her neck, sniffing at the wounds and his mouth opened wide. He clamped his mouth over most of them on one side and rolled his tongue across each one. </p><p>“Fuck.” Janey hissed. Bull covered her mouth with his hand.  The saliva stung but wasn’t overly painful. When Bull switched to sucking, that is when it turned painful. Bull growled low when Janey tried to jerk away and held her steady for a few seconds. He pulled off and turned to the chamberpot, spitting the contents of his mouth out. </p><p>He held it out to her and held his own looking glass up for her. “Got all the pus out.” He rinsed his mouth and spat again. “Clean it and use Sera’s poultice after.”</p><p>“Shit…” she eyed the reflection. It looked red but was drained now. “What even is Qunari saliva?”</p><p>“That’s a secret for the Tamassarans,” he chuckled. “Alright time for the other side.” He gestured. They did it again, this time Janey tried to sit still but still ended up knocking her foot on the floor. </p><p>Bull was mid rinsing his mouth when a bolt of lightning zapped him from the pile of blankets. </p><p>“Why is there a prostitute in your room, Bull?” Came a very angry and not ready for waking up Tevinter necromancer. He peered out from the blankets, using them to shield his unkempt hair and smudged eye makeup. </p><p>“I’m just leaving!” Janey popped off the chair to slip out, but the door locked from across the room with magic. </p><p>“Dorian…she just needed help.” Bull explained. </p><p>“Help?” Dorian glared. “You’re going to need help if I don’t get my beauty sleep.”</p><p>Janey snorted. “As if you need any more. Save some of the beauty for the rest of us.” </p><p>The room grew quiet, as they collectively registered what Janey said. Bull chuckled and Janey and Dorian smiled at each other. </p><p>“Oh I like you.” Dorian dropped the blanket. “Alright, what is the problem?”</p><p>“My patron never heard of aftercare is all.” She shrugged. </p><p>“Hmm.” Dorian stretched to see. “Come here.” </p><p>Janey froze and eyed him. She knew very well he was divested of all clothing still. “You sure? I mean you’re kind of really naked under there.”</p><p>“What...do I have to worry you simply cannot help to jump me?”</p><p>“If you had even a little bit of an interest in women sexually, I would at least try.” Janey crossed her arms. “But not unless I can get you to pay me.”</p><p>“Then come here.” He smacked the bed and Janey dropped onto it. </p><p>Bull watched them closely while tinkering about the room and cleaning up from last night’s escapades with Dorian. </p><p>“That is quite a nasty bruise there.”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“Have you tried a-“</p><p>“Allergic to elfroot.”</p><p>“Well that certainly hampers things.” Dorian tutted. “Bull, lyrium bottle please.” Bull grabbed one from the pack and handed it to Dorian. </p><p>“Now, I’ve not performed a healing spell in some years so this may be rough.” Dorian explained. </p><p>“Heh, rough was my night.”</p><p>“Clearly.” Dorian took a sip and set his hands on her shoulders. “This may burn.”</p><p>“If it’s burning it’s working?” Janey cracked a smile and then howled when the magic started. </p><p>Twenty minutes later she was spread out on the bed, fresh pink scars on her shoulders and a mild purple bruise across her neck. All the while she was nursing a cup of whatever it was Bull had poured for her. </p><p>“It’s sooooo early for drinking.” She huffed.</p><p>“Nonsense.” Dorian huffed. “It is never too early for a glass of wine.” He took a long drink from his glass and turned a page in a book he was reading. </p><p>“True. But...it’s too early for whatever this is…” she raised the cup up and drank more. </p><p>“Maraas Lok.” Bull chuckled and plucked the empty cup from her hand. “And you finished drinking it in one go. Probably not a good idea.”</p><p>“Yeah...that was not a good idea.” Janey mirrored him and rolled over until she lay on the floor. “I think I should...go.” </p><p>“You good to make it back to Morris?” Bull asked. </p><p>“He’s like...right across anyway…” Janey shrugged as she struggled to stand. “Oof. Oh wow, the floor is really far away.”</p><p>“Janey?” Bull snapped his fingers and she eyed him. </p><p>“I see you. With both my eyes. But you...you can only see me with one.” Janey giggled and covered her mouth. </p><p>“Okay.” Bull rolled his eye and directed her to the door. “Off you go then.”</p><p>“Mmkay. Thank you again, Bull’s Kadan!” Janey waved behind her with a large grin. Bull glared and snapped the door shut behind her. </p><p>Janey waited and heard the raised question from Dorian. </p><p>“Kadan?”</p><p>“Well I was waiting for the right moment...”</p><p>“Bull…oh Bull.”</p><p>Janey grinned and walked away, slowly toward the stairs. She took them one at a time. Even if it took an eternity. </p><p>Eventually she was on the ground floor and shakily made her way to the door, opening it and closing it. </p><p>She stepped back but found her back against another person. She looked up to find a great big beard and a pair of worried grey eyes. </p><p>“Lass?” </p><p>That accent did wonderfully terrible things to her. </p><p>“Oh it’s you...Blackwall. Hmm you’re like a bear...Bearwall but so yummy. Like a snack. Oooh you’re a Snackwall.” She babbled as she sunk against him. “Warm…”</p><p>“Let’s go inside, Lass.” </p><p>“I just came from inside.” She yawned. The night’s events were catching up to her. </p><p>“It’s warmer <b>inside</b>,” he chuckled. </p><p>“Hmm.” She closed her eyes. “Warm…” she turned and pressed closer to him. Forgetting entirely she was supposed to be running from him. </p><p>“I’ve got you.” He muttered as she dozed off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Blackwall set the woman down on his bed. He had a spare room in the tavern for the coldest of nights. The room had only the bare minimums. A bedframe, bedroll with blankets, chamberpot, bowl, pitcher, and a table. It was a small room, more a closet really that Cabot kept for him specifically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman muttered sleepily as he tucked the blanket around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t any idea what he was going to do. He had visited the tavern early enough to catch Flissa’s girls at the end of their work night, to find her and ask forgiveness for his behavior. Perhaps even find out why and how she knew his name.  Yet the woman wasn’t there. He decided to linger outside the Repository and Armory, knowing Ser Morris was there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fell asleep waiting beside the Armory’s constantly heated furnace. Only waking when he heard the door to the tavern open. He hadn’t expected to find her drunk or collapsing into his arms asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall dropped his head into his hands. If he hadn’t been there, would she have fallen asleep outside? It would have been her death with as little as she was wearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a resigned sigh, he rose to grab a few items from the bar, leaving a silver coin for Cabot to find. He closed the door and poured a cup of water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lass…” he whispered and nudged her. “You’ll best drink this…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She mumbled and turned her back to him, curling further into herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was completely vulnerable. As though she was unaware of the danger she could be in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No...more like she didn’t seem to care?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall frowned and rolled her back over to face him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha?” she whined and popped open her eyes. “Oh…” His presence woke her up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be wanting to drink this, it’ll help prevent a hangover in a few hours.” He set the cup on the bedside table, looking toward where her feet peaked out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get hangovers.” She stared at the cup for a moment before sitting up. “But I am thirsty.” She took a sip from it and then stared at him. Her head tilted and eyes on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall expected the same stroke of fear and panic that went through her last time. Yet this time she was calm. Resigned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was chilling really. Woman as young as her, finding herself alone in a room and she showed no apprehension. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to kill me now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Blackwall’s gaze snapped up, bewildered. The question wasn’t strange, given the circumstances. Guilt raced through him. He swore no one would get hurt if the truth ever came out, and she...well she hadn’t been hurt. Scared perhaps, but not so much now. Though given her expectation…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stretched and popped her joints. “For knowing your real name? Knowing you’re not really Warden Gordon Blackwall?” She asked. “I mean this would be the perfect time to. I smell like a brewery. It’d be easy to make it look like a drunken accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwal’s brows furrowed, mouth open in horror. “No. </span>
  <b>No.</b>
  <span> I’m not killing you.” Killing her was the last thing he wanted to do. It would undo everything he’s done, everything he’s accomplished. He would not return to the man he was before. Not even to keep his secret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” Her brows rose. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t take his name just to commit murder.” He admitted. The again was unsaid. But he didn’t know how much she knew. She knew his family name, knew he wasn’t really Warden Blackwall. But how far did that information go? Did she know what he did? And how did she know? What tipped her off?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. I would almost call you noble.” She stretched further. “If not for the outright identity fraud.” She set the cup back on the table and beamed at him. “So what are you offering then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Offering?” Blackwall squinted. He wasn’t sure what she expected of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For my silence and keeping your true identity a secret.” She pulled the blanket off her lap and scooted forward to face him directly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d be lying if he didn’t glance down at her lap where her dress had hiked up past her mid thighs. He didn’t know if she did so intentionally or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So the Spymaster doesn’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Spymaster only knows what she asks me about.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, something twisted about it as she rubbed her hands against her thighs, fingernails raking across her flesh leaving tracks and raised lines. “If she asks me a question, I tell her the truth. But if she doesn’t ask me, then I am not prompted to tell her anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...you’re a liar as well?” Blackwall eyed her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only by omission.” She pinned him with the sort of look that said ‘we’re the same but not’. Blackwall didn’t like the feel of that look.  He shifted, the guilt on his shoulders heavier than ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I am willing to lie outright, for the right...</span>
  <b>motivation</b>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall sniffed. “Just so you know, I don’t have much coin to begin with. The Inquisition pays us little and you know there is no Warden salary either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t afford my normal charge even if you did.” She laughed, seemingly airy and light but the glint in her eye had a dark edge to it. “And yes I am aware of the meager salary the Inquisition pays its soldiers. Even ones so close to the Inquisitor, such as you.” She shifted closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why did you take to my bed?” He frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a mutual friend who pulled in a favor. “ She explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall grumbled. “Sera…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She also mentioned you might need reminding not to use it like a sword and to imagine peaches.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blasted girl.” Blackwall huffed and shook his head. He’d have to repay her for that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well she was just trying to cheer you up. Something about...the lady you were pining for got snatched up.” The woman explained. “It is quite hard to compete against the Inquisitor for the Lady Ambassador’s affection. And even if the Inquisitor wasn’t involved, you didn’t really think it could have gone past a…splendeur des coeurs perdus, did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He didn’t. Especially now. How was he meant to compete with the Inquisitor for Josephine’s affection? She was of a much higher rank than him, and he…he wasn’t even </span>
  <b>himself</b>
  <span>. He didn’t deserve to be in her presence much less desire her acknowledgment. The Inquisitor was at least of the same class, and was the Herald of Andraste. A much more fitting match that only  came to light only recently. It left Blackwall commiserating with an almost endless goblet of ale, that was interrupted by the woman across from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, coin is sooo…” she shimmeyed her shoulders and then grinned. “Pedestrian. What I want is something much more valuable to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what’s that?” Blackwall almost didn’t want to know. Would it be a favour? A murder she needed executed? She was a spy, one of Leliana’s at that. It could be any number of horrible deeds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall blinked. He must have heard incorrectly. “Sorry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said…I,” she scooted ever closer, breaching the gap between them. “Want.” She braced a leg against the chair he sat on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down to see how dangerously close she was to showing off her smalls. Though he needn’t worry for her modesty, given she is a prostitute. Still, it was unnerving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.” She grasped the tail end of his beard and yanked him closer to her. “Specifically that mouth and tongue of yours.” She grinned. “Repeatedly, whenever I want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What could she want with him? He’d cummed inside her, nearly impregnated her and based on her reaction to him, nearly threatened her by his very presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Blackwall whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face could not be any more pleased. She breathed into his ear. “In my line of work, it’s not often a customer goes out of their way to make sure I orgasm. In fact I can count the number on one hand since joining the inquisition.” She raised a hand so he could look, where she presented four fingers. “And all but one, were self achieved. Can you guess who gave me the one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall gulped, breathing in the scent of her and a heady fragrance - her arousal. If he wasn’t so frightened of his identity being revealed, he might enjoy being lusted after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was he kidding, he was enjoying it even while worried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me?” Blackwall asked, though he was sure the question was rhetorical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh good, you’re not as dumb as some say you are.” She smirked </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall narrowed his gaze. “Surely you’ve had others? I hear the soldiers boasting all sorts of achievements after they’ve spent a night with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Oh honey, no.” She shook her head and patted his cheek. “I’m a professional harlot. Faking an orgasm is one of the many tricks of my trade.” She leaned back against the bed. “Anything to keep my patrons pleased and coming back for more of a boost to their ego.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s sad.” Blackwall muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For me or them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall considered the answer. For them, they didn’t know any better. Though they’d go through life sleeping with other women believing they were skilled. Yet, for her...as often as she’s taken clients… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...a year with the inquisition and only three orgasms. The Spymaster has us working hard.” Her lips twitched as he snorted. “Pun intended.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...you’ll lie if they ask you about me?” He clarified. “So long as I make you...” He glanced down between her legs. If he understood how she was blackmailing him correctly, he could get behind this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quiver and gush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Using </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> my mouth?” Blackwall was skeptical on the limit. Surelyhe could use his hands too? What about other tools he had on his person? And what if he wanted release as well. “Don’t suppose we can achieve release mutually?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Making demands already, Rainier?” She tutted and shook her head. “How about you prove you can even do so again first? Then maybe it’ll  be a privilege you can earn.” She raised one leg up on the bed and let her dress bunch up at her waist exposing that she wore no smalls. She crooked her finger at him. “Starting now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall got down onto his knees. He lowered his head between her thighs, feeling the weight of her expectant gaze. If the scent of her arousal was powerful before, nothing compared to the thick musky spice of her dewy lips. Blackwall took a moment to breath it in before he took a tentative lap at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips were puffy and red from a recent lover’s over exuberant actions. There was no spending on her, so clearly her last patron had used a preventative. Something he hadn’t had the forethought with her the other morning. He’d have to remember to visit the apothecary for a box of it, else he’ll have to go down to the village healer for one.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman, whose name he still didn’t know, gave a sigh when he nudged his nose against her hooded clit. He remembered how sensitive that was the morning before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not too fast.” She gripped his hair and pulled him back. “Slow…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted his understanding and returned. He shifted on his knees, meaning to hunch forward but decided against it - already feeling the ache in his lower back. So he grasped her thighs and pulled her closer to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oof.” She slid closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lay down.” He breathed into her inner thigh, nibbling at the bruised flesh there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I give the orders.” She hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Please </b>
  <span>lay down.” He looked up at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s better.” She conceded and laid back. This gave him a full view of her. Better than last time, because now he could spread her wider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her grip on his hair tightened. “No hands. Use only your mouth and tongue there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grumbled, but complied. He opened his mouth wide, tongue lolling out fully to rub her lips apart, revealing her already hot and wet center. He pulled on her lips with his teeth, gently rubbing and rolling them, before flattening his tongue to lick along it, up and down. Slow and light at first, before he added pressure and worked his way in.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Occasionally he nudged her hooded clit, by accident. But he didn’t pursue, opting to focus entirely elsewhere - at least until she gave the okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He listened to her moans, and paid special attention on the way her legs shifted around him. Her one hand still poised in his hair. The pads of her fingers ran through his hair and her nails scraped so light, it left his spine shivering. She wasn’t far from being able to grab his hair by the roots to catch his attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in a fairly different position than the morning before. Though he found himself on his knees in both occurrences, this time however he expected he would get no mutual release. Unless he sought it out himself especially as his arousal was painfully hard in his trousers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall lowered one hand down to undo his trousers strings and releasing his cock to the open air. He moaned against her thigh, one hand rubbing himself slowly, before he returned to his task. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dipped his tongue into her and then out. Alternating each motion’s speed to fuck her with his mouth until she was dripping. He used the excess liquid to spread across her lips and finally to her clit that was throbbing and red. He flicked his tongue over it, testing whether he was allowed now. Her thighs stiffened, and she let go of his hair. He peered over her mound. She was looking down at him, her finger between her lips where her teeth bit down. She stared through him rather than at him with a wet glazed look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lass?” Blackwall moaned. He was eager to please, if only to get to watch her enjoyment, pushing his own release forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hummed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I suck you, now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crooked a wicked grin at her and returned to his task. He flicked his tongue over her a few more times, running his teeth across and beard. She shivered each time, legs threatening to close around his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He taunted, teasing her until she gave an exasperated gasp. “Fucking hell! Rain-” she hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rumbling with a growl, he latched his mouth around her clit and sucked. Hard. To shut her up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her whole body stiffened tight and thighs clenched around his head. He let up the force of his sucking, softly switching to nibbling and then lapping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hips undulated, instinctively as though she were fucking, but there was nothing inside her. From the uncomfortable way she shifted, it looked like she wanted something inside her. Eagerly he pumped his cock and looked up, hopeful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall I-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Her voice warbled and instead her hand dropped to between her legs, one finger slipped inside her and gave a harsh twist. “Keep going.” She ordered. “And stop stroking yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He complied, paying total attention to her clit. Perhaps he was a little vicious this time, as he was forced to abandon his erection. He groaned and grunted, and when she removed her hand, he caught her fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of her off before returning to the source. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her clit was more engorged than before, so much so that when he went to suck hard, her body froze and he heard the thud of her head against the wall. Blackwall looked up to see her eyes rolled back, teeth biting her bottom lip, and her hands at her now bared breasts, gripping them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she began to quiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall looked down and quickly sealed his mouth against her to drink her in as she gushed. Both of his hands dropped to his lap where he frantically sought his own release. He stroked as fast as he sucked her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled off her when her hips spasmed, bucking up, but once she settled he was lapping.  Desperately he looked up. “Lass, may I-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? Wha-” Came her blitzed out question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was growing impatient and rose. He was poised to enter her anyway, when her foot - leg still quivering - pushed him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...never...” She moaned, still working through her orgasm. “...gave you permission.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but lass it will feel so good.” He started. But when she shook her head, he pulled her leg down and climbed atop the bed. One knee on the edge as he leaned over. She raised her hands to push him off, but he pinned her wrists down. “Lass...please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall released a whine and collapsed on top of her. He nestled between her legs, but had not pushed inside. Instead he rubbed against her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both moaned. Her orgasm elongated and his was just starting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck…” Blackwall groaned and released her hands in time to direct his cum elsewhere. He meant to point it at the floor, but the lass spoke words that had him spilling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On my tits!” She barked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so Blackwall spilled leaving a trail messily on her dress, up her belly and then across her bosom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall braced himself against his bed’s edge, breathing deeply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” She lay there, looking down at her chest. “You have one more thing to do now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lass?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clean me up.” She ordered. “With your mouth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall smirked. He could do that. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Well…” she rolled her shoulders with a pop. Janey straightened her dress as best she could. “Wasn’t that fun!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While her skin wasn’t sticky anymore, it didn’t feel as clean as it had before. Blackwall was not as obedient as she thought he would be. He was wild, ornery, and entirely perverse. He balked at direct orders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he didn’t forcefully enter her. When she said no he tried still, but still didn’t go against her direct wishes. It was the barest minimum of respect toward her consent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still better than most of her clients. And considering she was blackmailed him… her lips curled up, as she eyed him.  His head was lowered as he sat where she’d told him to. He’d cleaned her up as she’d ordered and even retrieved a rag and bowl to wash her down. All with a look as though he were a dog who knew he did something bad and expected some kind of punishment. Guilty, sad, and repentant as he went out of his way to clean her up further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blackwall peered up at her, hopeful. “So you’ll not tell?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She narrowed her gaze at him. He swallowed and hunched further down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don’t think I will,” she stated. When he released a relieved breath, she added, “For now anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What else do I have to do, to...ensure you don’t?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey wanted to be cruel, wanted to tease him, wanted to make him beg again as he did before. “Well I said earlier, whenever I want you, you will make me orgasm. And you asked if you could as well and what did I say?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That it would be something I could earn.” He answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly. Consider today a fluke. Next time, I’ll string your cock and balls up so you can’t cum.” She threatened. “Understood?” Janey felt a thrill when his cheeks turned red and he licked his lips, but he nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For now, while you’re in Skyhold anyway, you don’t cum unless I say so.” Janey ordered. “You ask me for permission first. Got that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good boy. Any questions?” Janey asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I uh…” Blackwall’s cheeks were still flushed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still don’t know your name.” He hung his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey laughed until she saw he was serious. “Oooh.” She tutted and stepped right to him. He was a few inches taller than her, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his ear and he hunched down for her. “When you’re with me...you’ll refer to me as you would a Queen. Because I’m as much of a Queen as you are a Warden.” She pressed a kiss to his earlobe. “Understand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes...Your Majesty.” The way his Marcher accent twisted it up, left a pleasant feeling in her spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s nice.” Janey cooed and stepped back, she looked around to make sure she had everything before heading for the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about in front of others?” Blackwall asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a good question. She pressed her back against the door and smiled as she pushed it open. “Miss Doe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stepped out into the Tavern, her gait light and fluttery as across the second floor and took the stairs. This time it was easier, but the world was still wobbly from the drinks she had. Yet it was all heightened from her recent activities. Truly relaxed and satisfied, the warm tavern air wrapped around her sensitive skin in a welcoming embrace that was yanked off the moment she stepped outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the position of the moons, the night had long crested into morning. It was an hour or two off from sunrise. She made quick work to the repository, watching as those who slept on the third floor of the building were making their way down. The kitchen staff, door knockers, and servants that helped run Skyhold like a household. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, my fellows,” she sang as she passed them and ignored the judgemental looks they gave her cum stained dress. They went down as she went up. Morris had a room, due to his station and family. The other rooms on this floor usually had anywhere from four to six people in them. But Morris shared with her. A luxury to many. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey stepped in, closed the door silently and waited until she adjusted to the darkness before she set the rune Flissa had given her down at the bowl by the door.  She kicked off the hard soled slippers and pulled the dress off. She wore no breast band and no smalls so it was the dress and slip she had to clean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She found the two buckets of water Morris always made sure were filled for when she returned. One went right over the hearth fire for warming and the other she dropped her dress in with a bit of lye and animal fat.  The crude soap mixture would soak the dress and she’d scrub it tomorrow. For now, she used the heated water and gave herself a quick rinse down before slipping on her sleeping gown and used the rest of the hot water to prepare Morris his morning tea and set it on the bedside table with a biscuit and apple she pulled from the dwarven larder he had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once done, she carefully climbed over Morris, though the man could sleep through the Breach once he was actually asleep and not napping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stirred only once when Morris woke for his day and sometime in the early afternoon a warm bowl of stew drew her out of her sleep. She woke, ate, and eyed the dress that was hanging by the hearth cleaned and scrubbed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once dressed in her usual white chemise, beige dress, brown girdle, and pink overskirt.  She added a matching pink scarf around her neck to hide the bruise she still had, and wore the warming rune necklace. Attached to her girdle and under the overskirt was a belt with a pocket where she kept a few necessary items for her trade and a few hobby items.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a pair of white stockings and her hard soled slippers, she went down toward Morris’s office.  “Morris! I really must thank you-” She stopped short once she saw Morris speaking with the Inquisitor. “Oh, my apologies. I hadn’t realized you had company.” She ducked her head and curtsied. “Inquisitor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Edric Cadash looked up at her and nodded, before returning back to Morris. “Dagna made a request for a special scope of some kind from Serault. Don’t suppose you could expedite that for me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey lingered around Morris’s desk. She examined his missives and price charts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would, your worship...” Morris’s shoulders hunched as he stepped back from the inquisitor. “But...the Marquis of Serault must approve the production of this magnitude. The scope Dagna is requesting requires cooperative work from the Glassworkers and a new permit for the work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what does the Marquis want?” Edric scratched his chin through his beard. “Money?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...no- or rather that I don’t exactly know. Bu-but-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Out with it.” Edric grumbled impatiently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Marquis is missing.” Morris stated plainly and gulped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Edric sighed. “Missing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sent word to my cousin Joergina in Alyons, to check on the request. But she sent word back that the Marquis of Serault and the Inquisition’s emissary have gone missing on a hunt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our emissary is missing?” Edric growled. “Damnit. This would be easier if we could send soldiers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ye...yes.” Morris reluctantly agreed. Though Janey could already feel like sending soldiers would be the worst thing to do. A contingent of soldiers from the Inquisition on Orlesian land? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Edric muttered to himself. “I don’t know how much can be done from here. We want to avoid displeasing the Orlesian monarchy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll speak with Leliana on this matter.” Edric nodded. “As you were.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, your worship.” Morris called as Edric left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the door shut, he leaned against his desk and calmed his nerves with a burst of panting breath. “Maker…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey came around to him. “You are a bundle of nerves around him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s...quite imposing, Janey,” he whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He just looks like a normal dwarf to me. Minus the glowing green hand.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Janey! He stood in front of an Archdemon and an Ancient Darkspawn Magister, and then managed to live through an avalanche! Not to mention he’s Andraste’s chosen.” Morris gaped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey snorted. “If you believe so.” She stepped up to him, slipping her arms up to wrap around his shoulders. “Thank you for cleaning my dress.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well thank you for preparing my tea.” He gazed down at her warmly. “Will you be working at the camp or the tavern today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The camp.” She pecked his cheek and pulled back. “I’m off to entertain the soldiers today”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morris’s brows furrowed, hand to his cheek. “Janey?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” She looked back at him with a relaxed disposition and an easy smile that reached her eyes where her pupils were somewhat dilated. An expression she did not often have but one he knew all too well - intimately so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morris frowned. “Did you…-” But he swallowed the question. Surely he was wrong. He’d only seen her so relaxed a few times since they both joined the Inquisition, and before that… it was in Val Royeaux when he was still purchasing her services.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t forget your cloak. You’ll catch the death out there in just that.” He handed her the cloak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thanks.” She pulled on the cloak and waved at him as she slipped out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morris stared at where she’d been standing. “Madness,” he muttered and returned back to work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey quickly rushed toward the lifts of Skyhold, where a line had formed for those who didn’t want to - or couldn’t - take the stairs. Mainly merchants with now empty carts and their horses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spied Candy and Sabre by the lift that would take them down to the valley. Candy was a lithe silver haired pale skinned woman who used beet juice to tint her hair a cotton </span>
  <em>
    <span>candy </span>
  </em>
  <span>pink. Sabre was black haired, tanned, gangly, and tall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Finally! The others are already down at the village.” Sabre pushed off the wall to stand to his full height. He towered over most humans, but was still shorter than any Qunari. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You call it a village, but it’s still barely a homestead.”  Janey corrected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Village, homestead. Whatever. They’re building cabins now, who know how many more.” Candy waved the lift operator, who let the three of them on ahead of the line. Their spot had been held. They lift had a cart that was being taken back down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope enough that maybe Flissa can get one for us specifically to work from.” Janey tossed back as she grabbed one of the lifts railings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would be nice to be taking customers in a room instead of a tent.” Sabre mused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leagues better than against a rock or tree.” Candy nudged Janey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pulling splinters from </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>arse, while hilarious in thought, is not fun in practice.” Janey snickered. A stiff wind had them all shivering and Janey drew them closer to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blazes, you’re warm.” Sabred stepped behind her while Candy pressed close to Janey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Flissa gave me a new warming rune.” Janey pulled it out and showed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You get that for snagging Vael last night?” Candy asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And a raise.” Janey grinned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Piss.” Sabre rested his head on Janey’s.  “How was Vael anyway? I’m jealous ya know, ya tit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh quit whinging.” Candy prodded. “You got Hawke last time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sabre hummed in the pleasant memory. “Hawke made my toes curl. Who knew the Champion could kiss ass so well. Such a Diplomat, with dirty </span>
  <b>filthy </b>
  <span>secrets.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We did.” Janey deadpanned. “Literally us three.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of…” Candy prodded. “How was Sebastian?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bit choky kinky. Really wanted to fuck Anders and Bela though.” Janey shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How ya figure?” Sabre looked down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess what he called me all night?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha.” Candy snorted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Though I think with Anders it was more...hate fucking. Ya get my meaning?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oooh...bruised?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Loads.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why ya working, ya tit?” Sabre pinched her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey hissed as he’d pinched right where it was still sensitive from the bite marks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry…” he rubbed the spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I made a bet with Thorton last week.” Janey shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Making bets with our customers, not wise.” Candy tutted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if it doesn’t lead to their further patronage.” Janey stuck her tongue out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what was the bet?” Sabre asked as the lift reached.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll see.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The forward camp - almost homestead and not quite village - was always alive with soldiers running drills, training, and sparring. It lessened the closer to sundown, but there was always a guard rotation switch every two to four hours - depending on the time of day. The camp had a smattering of buildings. One for supplies, an infirmary, the officers’ quarters, and a large longhouse that operated as the canteen.  Tables, chairs, and a large area in the center was usually cleared in the evenings to allow for entertainment. Usually in the form of soldiers who could sing a tune, and for dancing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was already lively in the canteen. Why, Janey didn’t know. “Is there a holiday or something?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that I know of.” Sabre looked around. “But...there sure are a lot more kilts than usual.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Candy paused and cringed. “Fucking hells. I forget Marchers are basically Scots without the Brit liberation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean occupation.” Janey snorted and corrected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh piss off, ya yank.” Candy rubbed the bridge of her nose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tonight is going to be so much </span>
  <b>fun</b>
  <span>.” Sabre elongated the last word with a cackle. Candy punched his side. “Oy, not on my good side.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Every side is your good side.” Janey called over her shoulder as she  looked around at the soldiers who were off duty and out of armor, wearing kilts and drinking around fires. There was some fiddle and lute playing out here with small crowds. But the largest congregation was in the canteen where the sound of a fast paced jig was spilling out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sabre led the group into the canteen, being tall and able to see around the other humans. Candy and Janey stuck close until they found some of Flissa’s other gals and guys. Hart was clapping to the beat of the song being played and then whistled while watching a particular set of dancers in the center. It was Flissa and Threnn spinning in time with the jig. Flissa’s other workers were spread around the canteen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oy!” Hart whistled to catch Sabre’s attention and pointed to the table. They stepped around tables, and kilt-wearing Marchers and slid in. “Didn’t think you’d show!” Hart turned to them and shoved goblets their way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey was quick to pour ale for herself, drinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the hurry, Ginger?” Precious asked as he sat a platter of food on the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to need a bit of liquid courage for what’s likely to happen.” Janey explained. “Because damn if Thorton doesn't know me well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Candy snatched a drumstick off the plate and tore into it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That I’m going to get her to dance.” Thorton popped down on the seat beside Janey with a cocky grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You… Thorton!” Janey growled and poked his chest. “You darn right cheat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now don’t go calling me that. I didn’t cheat.” Thorton waggled his brows. “I just paid attention is all. And you once said you’d only dance at festivals.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What festival even is this? Skyhold isn’t celebrating.” Candy asked over the noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course Skyhold proper isn’t, it’s Orlesian.” Thorton grinned around a faux Orlesian accent.  “But this is a Marcher tradition.  It’s the Spring Fire Festival where we light a bonfire in Andraste’s honour and pray to the Maker for a good Harvest to come.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what crops are we praying for here?” Janey poked his side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave a cheeky grin. “Well, none here. But us Marchers in the army figured we can’t go home yet, so we’d bring a little home right here.” Thorton explained. “Now do I gotta wait for ye to drink another goblet of ale, or can I drag you to the floor now, Ginger?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, incorrigible.” Janey shook her head and poured herself one more ale and chugged it in one swing, releasing a belch that had a few soldiers nearby clapping. “Alright, lets go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The song that was playing was coming to an end and Thorton dipped around the crowd, standing on a table and made some kind of motion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fack are ya doing, Thorny?” Janey called. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve a special song I want to dance with you.” Thorton grinned and jumped down off the table. “You might recognize it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As one song finished, the group in the center of the canteen thinned. Thorton jumped in, making motions for people to clear a space as couples began pairing up for the dance. Thorton came back round to Janey and pulled her along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thorny!” Janey hissed. “I don’t know this dance!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course ya do! Every Marcher knows it. Even you Western ones.” He laughed and had them positioned in the middle of a set of four other couples</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey blanched. People had assumed that her accent meant she was a Marcher, specifically from the South Western region close to Kirkwall. Not correcting that assumption was coming to bite her in the arse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The band started up and Janey barely registered Blackwall, Bull, and one of his chargers - the quiet one - among the ones playing instruments. Blackwall wore a full kilt skirt and Bull wore a long skirt, both were shirtless, and were playing the drums. The quiet one of the charges - Grim? - he was playing bagpipes. Or at least what looked like bagpipes to Janey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beat started quick, and she took a glance at what the other couples did and tried to follow along. But she had no luck in that as it seemed Thorton and her would lead.  He looped one arm with hers and the other wrapped around her waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready?” Thorton asked</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Janey wanted to whimper. Instead she forced a smile and followed his lead. They danced in a circle, no particular foot movements from the way he led them around and then the line of couples shifted one way and then back.  Thorton let her go, splitting and dancing to the jib.  Janey quickly followed him, though much less coordinated until she met him and he reached with his hands overhead and she placed hers into his. He grinned as the other couples came round and dipped under the bridge they made. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the last of them ducked under, Thorton grabbed her again and they did a full spin and then as a group the line of couples formed a circle. Thorton turned his attention from her to the lady across from him, the two coming to spin in a circle and then going back to their places, letting the next man dance and then next, until finally Janey had to quickly dance with a stranger in a circle and then back to her spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thornton came to her again, this time they led a quick jaunt to the left and back again, and finally they did the whole routine again. But when it came to the circle, it was one down, ensuring each lad danced with each lass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey eventually got the rhythm, a spring to her step as she moved. The heat of dancing reddened her cheeks and she was out of breath when the song finished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maker!” She swore and collapsed onto the table as Candy sprung up to replace her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve a lot more stamina than Ginger.” She boasted and Thorton waggled his brows but took her to the dance floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sabre snorted as he shuffled a deck of cards. “I think she’s aiming to steal your mark for the night.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, she can have him.” Janey shrugged. “Thorton is very high energy.” She drank more ale and used the scarf around her neck to wipe her brow. She looked across the crowd, spying many familiar faces. Unsurprising was Threnn and Flissa, dancing as a couple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda Darrow, out of her usual templar uniform and sporting a kilt - sporran and all.  She made her way around. Her usual dour and somber expression gone, replaced with a bright smile and rosy cheeks. Her Starkhaven accent was near incomprehensible at this point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ginger! Sabre...Hart…” Belinda’s speech slowed at Hart who preened as she looked him up and down, seemingly weighing the options before her gaze went back to Janey - curious. “Din suppose ya’lottar servin tonight?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh aye, we are.” Precious purred across from the table. “Payment’s upfront, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye.” Belinda slapped two gold coins onto the table and looked from Hart to Janey. “Ginger? Care to join me in mah tent?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gladly, Ser Darrow.” Janey stood, pocketing the two gold quick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh...din call me that, Ginger.” Belinda slurred and pulled Janey out of the canteen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Belinda then?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright...where’s your tent?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda pointed and Janey pulled her along. “So why are you already three sheets to the wind, as it were?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dispatched tamorrow.” Belinda shared. “Earl’eh start.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? But we’ll be so lonely without you…” Janey pouted and batted her lashes while walking backward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda snorted and grinned. “M’sure dere’o plenty to warm yer thighs.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes but you won’t be around.” Janey cooed back. She ducked into Belinda’s tent, who was quick to push her down onto her bedroll. Janey grabbed Darrow by her collar and drew her into a kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda groaned as she hovered over Janey, arms bared and flexing. Janey ran a hand over her bulging muscles and pulled at her tunic. Belinda was quick to yank it off, leaving her in nothing but the kilt and breast band. It was enough to make Janey squirm. Belinda possessed an expanse of thick muscles and shoulders that told on how much she took her duties as a Templar seriously.  She easily caged Janey. Not that little ole Janey minded, she loved it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve gotten bigger.” Janey hissed as Belinda nibbled her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jus’fer yah.” Belinda moaned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Janey moaned. “What about here?” She placed a hand on Belinda’s thigh. The muscle tensed and flexed. Janey felt each ripple as Belinda crowded her. “Oooh you have…” she slid her hand under her kilt and cupped Belinda’s sex. “And you’re wet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Belinda bit Janey’s neck and sucked. “Touch more.” She rasped between each kiss to Janey’s flesh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More?” Janey rubbed Belinda’s cunnie, fingers dipping to drag her wetness out. “How’s that?” Janey teased and skirted her fingers around Belinda’s clit. Her hips bucked and she shivered. Janey took the moment to push Belinda to her back. Though it was less pushing and more a suggestion, as she’d have no hope of moving Belinda unless she wanted to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda laid back, dragging Janey to lay on top of her. Their mouths pressed tight, sloppy and wanting. Janey positioned her knee right over Belinda’s snatch and rubbed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maker, yes!” Belinda groaned and spread her legs. She was frantically undoing the belt holding her kilt up and pulling at fabric so Janey could rub directly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Janey had other plans. Janey chuckled as she ducked her head under the kilt to breathe and take a long tentative lick of Belinda’s lips and clit.  She rubbed her thighs in a massage. Fingers digging into muscle, sliding across flesh to her hips and then back to her lower back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On your stomach…” Janey ordered and Belinda complied groaning as Janey massaged her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The touch of another person was a balm to the dutiful days spent as a distant guard. Being a Templar was a lonely occupation. Belinda’s days were spent watching over the mages in Skyhold and remaining vigilant of any magical issues. So this, this is what Belinda paid for. Touch, connection, and occasionally satisfaction. The massage was a bonus. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey pulled a small wooden container from her pocket and dipped one finger in the lotion before putting it away. It was a fragrant smell of elderflower and lavender. The scent alone relaxed muscles but when applied topically and massaged…it left anyone a puddle of relaxed muscles. It was something Janey kept on hand for Templars specifically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda’s muscles untensed and she became goo under Janey’s hands. A few times Janey applied pressure in the right way so as to crack Belinda’s back and neck and Belinda grunted and shifted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she was properly relaxed and massaged, Janey pulled her until she was laying on her back again. Belinda pulled Janey into a searing kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not done yet.” Janey pressed a kiss to her temple before lowering and once again ducked under her kilt, this time with the plan to devour. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With tongue and hand, Janey worked Belinda until she was a shuddering mess, screaming her throaty release.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey sat on her knees licking her fingers and wiping her chin clean as Belinda rode out the remnants of her orgasm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she was calmed enough, she yanked Janey until she was pressed against her. “Your turn…” Belinda growled into Janey’s ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of her Starkhaven brogue ever more pronounced due to drink and release made Janey shiver, but she doubted Belinda could reciprocate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no Belinda.” Janey pulled her hands up. “I’m not done.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the Templar’s confused look, Janey removed her breast band and exposed her breasts. Slowly, Janey licked her way from Belinda’s neck to her bosom where she sucked and massaged. Hands running along her sides, fingernails scraping light enough to raise gooseflesh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yer too good.” Belinda whispered, body still sensitive and easily pushed to the edge again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey said nothing, working diligently to target every dip in muscle and twirl her tongue around Belinda’s nipples and caressing her breasts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Belinda was panting, Janey returned to her center and focused on thrusting her fingers inside her. She crooked her fingers and pressed deep for the special spot. One she knew would get Belinda to howl again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Belinda…” Janey called and then pressed her thumb against Belinda’s clit, rubbing in a circular motion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The double stimulation drove Belinda over the edge. Her legs clamped around Janey’s wrists before she passed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey smirked. Quickly she wiped her hands down and pulled a blanket over her and sat beside her waiting until she came to again. In the meantime, she pulled her coin purse out and slotted the two coins Belinda had given her into them, and pulled out what she’d have to give Flissa. Then once done, she pulled out a piece of wood and a whittling knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whittling was a hobby she picked up once arriving in Skyhold. Not to pass the time, but for a specific set of tools she no longer had. She had to leave her bag of attachments in Haven and they were buried along with the rest of the village. And rather than order a new set through Morris, she was making her own. Ever so slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had the general shape of the head and curved shaft but it needed to be smoothed out now, and rounded. Unless she wanted to add textures to it. Perhaps ribbing? She threw the shavings into the brazier in the tent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes later, Belinda groaned and turned toward her. “Ye still‘ere?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye.” Janey slid her project away. Whittling knife sheathed and tucked into her girdle belt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“D’ya always stay?” Belinda sat up and reached for the broken barrel between the two cots in the tent. On it was a pipe and box of pink lyrium dust. Janey scrunched her nose as Belinda began to pack the pipe. “Din the others leave once yer mark passes out?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call me old fashioned, but a bit of pillow talk never hurts sometimes.” Janey shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pillow talk?” Belinda smirked, leaning against one of her knees as she lit the pipe and puffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey breathed in the second hand smoke. She didn’t know what effect lyrium vapors would have on her, but she could only imagine it might make things easier. So long as Belinda didn’t close herself off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dinnae tell me ye’ve gotten sweet on me.” Belinda leaned forward and blew the smoke out the side of her lips, away from Janey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perish the thought.” Janey shook her head whilst biting her bottom lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belinda’s gaze flicked down to her lips, distracted. Exactly what Janey wanted as she leaned forward. Janey tilted her head ever so as Belinda captured her lips in a slow hungry kiss.  Belinda pulled Janey closer, fingers a little harsh and that much more desperate. Janey closed her eyes and looked inside her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Memories flashed back. Recent ones of her playing cards and losing to her fellow Templars and having to take a few extra fingers of a harsh whiskey. Further back it was Belinda on guard rotation.  Further beyond that to this morning she was in the war table room with Dorian, Commander Cullen, Lady Josephine and Tamar, a report shared about Maevaris Tilani requiring assistance in Tevinter with her endeavors to find enemies of the Venatori. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey pulled back out of breath, forehead pressed to Belinda’s forehead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow…” Belinda breathed and blinked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know...lyrium could do that.” Janey muttered, a lick of fear running through her. She wasn’t sure if Belinda had detected her or not.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some o’ the Knights use it to intensify their senses.” Belinda explained and pulled Janey in for another kiss. This time, Janey wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of memories. Belinda’s mental defenses were completely down, distracted by Janey’s faux sentimentality. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey absorbed the flood of memories. They were quick, rushing past the guard rotations, bathroom visits, meals, until one in particular was of Belinda and Lysette. Lysette was confiding in Belinda about Mattrin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Janey pulled back a second time, she distanced herself from Belinda. “Much...as I enjoy kissing you…” she added a flush of her cheeks and body squirm as she stood. She licked her lips as though savouring the taste of Belinda. “I do have to keep working.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you find yourself lonely tonight…” Belinda gestured to her bedroll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll keep you in mind.” Janey smiled and slowly walked out. She kept up the charade as she returned to the canteen. Inside however, the canteen was quieter as stories were being told in the form of clapping jib. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A burst of laughter and the crowd sang along with the person in the center. The band, whom Janey hadn’t seen yet thanks to the thick crowd, was taking a break</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ring ding diddle iddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh. / Was nothing more than Maker’d graced him with upon his birth.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey wondered what was so funny about the song in particular as she ducked around a pair of people stomping their feet to the beat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They marveled for a moment, then one said we must be gone / Let's leave a present for our friend, before we move along.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey ducked around to get closer, stopping when she spied Blackwall was leading the singing and dancing whilst wearing a kilt. She raised a brow as he bellowed out the next couplet, red faced but enjoying himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow / Around the bonnie star, the March’s kilt did lift and show”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey snorted. “Bonnie star?” She laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blackwall kept the beat of his dancing to the clapping and stomping, even as there was raucous laughter around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now the Marcher woke to nature's call and stumbled toward the trees / Behind a bush, he lifts his kilt and gawks at what he sees.”  Blackwall turned his back to the crowd., facing the band stage. He lifted his kilt and mimed looking down, looking up startled.  “And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes. / O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize.” He made a rustling hand motion under his kilt and pulled a blue ribbon out to the hilarity of the crowd who barely were able to sing along the last couplet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ring ding diddle iddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh / O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize!!!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey laughed with the crowd at the tawdry dirty song, turning to find the table the others were at. She spied Flissa giggling and red faced as Threnn whispered into her ear. Janey sat down.  Flissa didn’t spare a second look but calmed down a moment to extend her hand, where Janey deposited the expected coin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you believe him?” Janey gestured. “It's not even dark and he’s telling such a tale!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s funny coming from you.” Threnn snorted and pointed to the exchange of coins. “Considering you work fast.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well two people can do a lot during the daylight hours in the privacy of a tent.” Janey shot back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And charging your regular rate too?” Flissa tutted as she tapped the table.  Janey shrugged her shoulders.  “Why’re you even here? You did enough yesterday.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have my eye on this particular dress pattern in one of Morris’s catalogues from Orlais.” Janey explained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A dress?” Flissa deadpanned. “You’ve never been all that concerned with fashion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if we’re to be joining the Inquisitor’s entourage to Halamshiral…” Janey lowered her voice at that and Flissa glared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you-” Flissa bit her lip. She knew how, just like how Janey gathered all the intelligence on Sebastian. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the way…” Janey leaned forward and whispered in Flissa’s ear about Mattrin. Flissa’s eyes widened and then narrowed, before she turned to Threnn and repeated it to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mattrin’s on rotation for another two hours.” She muttered. “Find out more before we take it to Cullen and Leliana.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we wait too long-” Janey warned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need concrete proof, find out where he hides it.” Threnn ordered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey frowned. “I’ll need to get close...</span>
  <em>
    <span>touch </span>
  </em>
  <span>him.” Janey shuddered.  “That will put me in danger of…” She dare not speak her fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps you can find another way?” Flissa eyed the dance floor. “Like with Thornton?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps.” Janey muttered, her voice loss to the raucous clapping that filled the canteen. Candy returned to the table with Thorton behind her, their hands intertwined. They both were disheveled, pupils dilated. But where Candy looked refreshed, there was a red-rimmed quality to Thorton. As if he’d cried recently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey gave Candy a long look, before she mouthed “Later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to ask, but soon the festivities drew their attention as the Inquisitor himself joined the group. He was dwarven but Marcher born and so knew a little about the human custom, having participated a few times back in Ostwick. He made a speech about the community and the accomplishments of the Inquisition, and then cake was brought out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey stopped listening as soon as she had a slice of cake. It was carrot cake, but cake none-the-less. With a chocolate frosting! She was over the moon. She took her slice and decided to join the bonfire lighting as the sun crested over the horizon. She waited to take a bite when she was sure no one was looking and all about melted in a puddle. Texture, sweetness, and the chocolate. She moaned her pleasure and licked and sucked every morsel off her fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I didn’t know any better, Ging, I’d say you were eating that cake out.” Another Marcher accent, Kirkwaller and specifically dwarven. It was rough and grumbly and yet unmistakable with a tinge of the sarcastic tone of a storyteller.  A Kirkwaller, specifically dwarven. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey eyed Varric as he sauntered up to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want, Varric?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oof, ouch, you wound me Ging.” Varric mocked affront and placed a hand over his heart. “Would it really surprise you, I came to you for the conversation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would, if it was really just for that. But I know you.” Janey wagged her finger at him. “A conversation is never just a conversation. You want information. You know my rate and stipulations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps I can get a confectioner’s discount?” Varric held up the plate of his own slice of cake. “Seeing as how you enjoyed yours so much.” He smirked. Janey grabbed the plate, spoon poised to take a bite, when she eyed Varric for confirmation. “Go on. I’m not much for sweets anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cutting into the cake with her spoon she grabbed one mouthful and then another when she encountered something meta under the cake. Or rather five metal somethings.  With a raised brow, she eyed Varric. “Your tent?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varric shook his head and pointed behind him toward a cropping of trees in the valley. “His.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janey followed the line and spotted Hawke. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is part of the <a href="https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject">LLF Comment Project</a>, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors.<br/>I invite and appreciate feedback, including long comments, Questions, and <i>Constructive</i> criticism.<br/>I see and appreciate all comments but may not reply until the next chapter is ready.<br/>If you don’t want a reply from me, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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